


On The Air

by Oldguybones



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: ALL THE GOOD STUFF, Cheesy Dance Scene, Fluff, Intern Eddie, M/M, Radio Host Richie, Trapped In A Closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 16:26:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19338241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oldguybones/pseuds/Oldguybones
Summary: Eddie accepts an internship at a local radio station, hoping to add something interesting to his college applications. After accidentally locking them both in the supply closet, he meets one of the station's hosts, Richie "The Trashmouth" Tozier. The two of them spend the overnight shows bonding and getting to know each other.





	On The Air

It was barely halfway through his very first day and Eddie already wanted to run out the door. Hours had been spent sorting through CDs and alphabetizing them, going on multiple coffee/food runs and even walking the dog of the station manager, which included picking up after it (multiple times). When Eddie accepted the internship, he knew a career in radio wasn't something he'd be interested in. 

However, after an uneventful high school career, he needed something extra to put on his applications for college the following year if he wanted to actually get accepted to any next time around. But competition proved to be stiff and any internships even remotely related to his interested field were booked solid with those fresh out of high school, who possessed far more impressive resumes than himself. So he settled and took the first offer he received, KSPR Radio.

He didn’t expect much; he certainly didn’t expect it to be a glamorous endeavor. But he drew the line at picking up the excrement of a spoiled lap dog and getting paid absolutely nothing to do so. Surely no amount of resume fluffing could be worth it. 

After going out on his afternoon coffee run (despite just having gone out on a lunch run barely an hour prior), Eddie resolved to quit. Right then and there. He intended to march into the boss' office and tell him where he could stick it. Or rather just that he quit, because no matter how pointless and demeaning he found his tasks to be that day, he still didn't possess the brazen ballsiness needed to stage a dramatic walk out such as that. Quitting would have to be enough satisfaction for him.

But as he proceeded towards his boss’ office, his deliberate steps faded into a dull trudge. No part of him wanted to stay, but a decent part of him did not wish to experience the confrontation of quitting. Maybe he could just not show up tomorrow; that would send the message well enough. Eddie always found himself to be a man of integrity though and that plan just didn’t sit right with him. He drew closer to the office, the door just down the hallway, but then he stopped in his tracks. Perhaps the best plan would be to simply toughen up, see it through and spend his entire summer running errands and picking up dog shit. 

Right as he spun around and lifted his foot to take the first step away, the call of his boss’ voice stopped him. His eyes snapped shut; a deep breath inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth as he turned around, putting on the best smile he can manage. 

Go figure his boss would demand he go fetch something from the supply closet while he was literally just on his way to quit. He could at least pretend for a little longer that he actually would’ve gone through with it. 

Grumbling the entire way, he stomped to the supply closet, mentally listing off the items requested over and over again. After insisting he didn't need to write it down, it would really suck to forget something and prove his 'incompetence', as his boss put it. However his mantra was cut off as he pushed the door open, trying to reel himself back in and undrop his jaw. 

Standing in the middle of the closet was one of the radio hosts, went by The Trashmouth on his show, but his actual name was Richie. (Eddie knew because his boss liked to bitch about him, a lot.) He stood tall and lanky, a certain dorky handsomeness to his features. He wasn't Eddie's type-particularly his loud, foul mouth-but he wasn't  _ completely _ repulsive. His skin almost shone from how pale he was, which made the scatter of colorful tattoos along his arms stand out even more. A glint of metal caught his eye and he found his attention pulled down to notice that he had his nipples pierced. 

Richie looked down, seemingly realizing where Eddie's eyes were fixed. He whistled to startle him out of it and wore a smirk as Eddie’s gaze snapped back up to his face. “See something you like?”

Eddie's cheeks flushed bright red and he could feel the heat spread all over his body. 

"You can look for free. But if you wanna touch, it's gonna cost ya," Richie ended with a smooth wink. His attention dropped back to the task at hand, where his t-shirt was scrunched up in his hand, the other scrubbing at the large, dark stain standing out on the white fabric.

“Uh, I just...uh, I want to...ummm...I need,” he stammered, his cheeks further flushing pink as he vaguely gestured to the shelves on the opposite side of the small room, just past where Richie stood. He took a step away from the door, his foot no longer propping the door open and as a result, it began to slowly creak shut. 

“No, no, no! Wait!” Richie exclaimed as he noticed the door closing. The realization came just a second late as the door clicked shut; what followed was a frustrated sigh. “God dammit.”

“What?” Eddie demanded coldly, his gaze snapping back over to Richie’s. He was so incredibly fed up already; he’d spent his entire day being treated as the lowest of the low and he wasn’t sure if he could take even one more condescending remark from some asshole pretending to be someone important. “What did I possibly do wrong now? Did I get the wrong coffee order? Or did I mess the lunch order? Maybe I alphabetized the CDs in the wrong way! Because that’s all I’ve been doing around here anyways! So what? What is it,  _ Trashmouth _ ?”

A subtle look of shock took over Richie’s face, eyes slightly widened and lips pursed together. “The door locks from the outside,” Richie informed him, trailing off towards the end into a heavy sigh

Despite clearly hearing these words, Eddie didn’t seem to comprehend them entirely, reaching for the door and frantically trying to pull it open. The handle refused to budge, precisely like Richie mentioned and like Eddie hoped wasn’t true. He turned back towards Richie; his cheeks were still flushed a soft red, both from the shame of not believing Richie and the fact that he just now realized how small the room was (and subsequently how close he was to an oddly attractive, still shirtless radio DJ). 

“You feel better now that you checked it?” Richie asked, lips quirking up in a knowing smirk.

“Yup,” Eddie replied with a pop on the end as he attempted to look anywhere but Richie’s bare chest. He could still feel heat on his skin at the mere thought. His heart began to pound, between this thought and the sudden realization that they were locked in, trapped essentially. The room, which felt small to begin with, now felt even smaller. He chest rose and fell rapidly as he sucked in short, panicked breaths. 

“Are you sure about that?” Richie eyed him suspiciously, ceasing his cleaning attempts but still clutching in shirt in his hands. “Are you okay?”

Eddie nodded stubbornly, refusing to acknowledge the panic beginning to set in. “Uh, is someone coming-” he gestured vaguely to the closed door, “-to get us out?”

Richie shook his head; he wore a convincing look of remorse on his face, but it was nothing more than a facade, a misguided joke. “No, we’re gonna have go through the vent up there,” he instructed, pointing up towards the ceiling where the vent was slightly askew. “I could go, but--and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, I’m kinda tall. So it would be a lot easier if you went.”

“No, no fucking way,” Eddie snapped, not entertaining the idea for even a moment. “That’s not fucking happening.” He turned towards the door and banged his fist against it, repeatedly. “Help! Someone help! We’re trapped in here!”

Richie chuckled, taking a couple steps over to the other side of the room (which was really more of a closet than anything.) “Hey, woah, I’m sorry that was just a joke,” he was quick to clarify as he reached out to put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, attempting to regain his attention and comfort him. 

Eddie immediately yanked his shoulder away, startled by the touch. He spun around, taking a step forward before he realized just how  _ god damn close  _ that made him to Richie _.  _ With each heaving breath he took in, his chest almost brushed against Richie’s, which he soon realized was still uncomfortably bare. “Well that was  _ not  _ funny!” he exclaimed and pointed a dramatic finger in Richie’s direction. “And you...just, put a shirt on!"

“Can’t handle all this?” he teased, motioning his hand up and down his chest before finally tugging on his shirt with a chuckle. 

“No, I mean, yeah-” Eddie stammered, breaking off into a moment of silence to collect himself then sighing as he continued, “I mean you are in your place of work. Maybe try to be at least a little professional.”

“Alright, alright,” Richie muttered lightly, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and typing out a quick message. “There. Made it a little easier for you.”

Eddie clenched his jaw tightly; he couldn’t help the way his gaze flickered down to fix on the outline of his nipple rings beneath the thin white t-shirt. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he forced himself to tear his eyes away and focus back on the still locked door. “Okay, but seriously, is someone coming to get us or not?”

Richie shrugged casually, watching as Eddie’s expression turned back to one of panic. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, don’t get yer panties in a bunch there love,” he replied in a thick Irish accent, his face lighting up in delight at the reaction it drew from Eddie. He dropped it a moment later when he assured Eddie, “I texted Joe. Said he’ll be down in a minute, but with his lazy ass, who fucking knows?”

Eddie let out a soft bark of laughter, as an uncontrollable, knee jerk reaction. He wholeheartedly agreed with the sentiment; their boss was painfully lazy and didn’t seem to care about or do any kind of work at all. He sighed, his eyes slipping shut as he rested his head back against the door. “So we’re gonna be in here for a while then.”

“Probably,” Richie confirmed, sitting down on the box of copy paper and crossing his legs at the ankles. “So what brings you to KSPR Radio, Eds?”

Eddie frowned in his confusion, his gaze scanning over Richie’s incredibly leg longs. “How do you know my name?” he questioned, “Wait...that’s not my name. My name is Eddie.”

“Oh boy, you’re cool under pressure, huh?”

“Shut up.” Eddie rolled his eyes, a playful smile creeping up onto his face. A quiet moment passed between them before Eddie began speaking again, to answer Richie’s earlier question. “I didn’t get into any of the colleges I applied to. So I thought I’d try to add some experience to my otherwise unimpressive resume and as it turns out, this was the only internship I could get. Apparently all the good ones are booked by people much more remarkable than me."

Richie nodded along, "Makes sense."

“Wait…” Eddie's brows furrowed in offense, "Shouldn't you like, tell me that I actually am remarkable and that it was a coincidence that the other internships were already taken?"

"Who am I to say?" Richie asked, shrugging his shoulders. "I just met you and you ended up in this shit hole so you must be just a terribly unremarkable person.”

“Okay,  _ ha ha,”  _ Eddie grumbled dryly, waving his hands near his head in a mocking fashion. “I’m sorry, okay? I just...this isn’t exactly where I pictured myself at this point in my life.”

Richie went to speak, but was cut off by the sound of the approaching footsteps outside. “You should stick around,” he concluded, flashing Eddie a dazzling grin. “You’ll see, it’s really not so bad here.”

Eddie considered it as the door finally pulled open and, as they filtered out of the room, he decided that he could stay at least a few more days.    
  


But the funny thing about time was how quickly a few days turned to weeks and then months after that. Even more so was how little Eddie cared about the rapidly passing time, as long as he got to spend more time getting to know Richie. Every chance he got, he found himself in the booth with Richie. It all started one night, when his boss insisted he work the overnight to deep clean the entire station; it seemed like an unreasonable request and at first, he refused, but then his boss promised to write him a recommendation letter at the end of his internship, so he figured he could stick it out for one night. 

It wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t forgotten his earbuds at home that morning, forcing him to listen to the hum and drum of the station; for the most part, it was quiet as there were only two of them there, himself and the radio host he got locked in a supply room with. He’d spent the last two months developing a flirtatious rapport with him, little chit-chats while passing in the hall and even a few times, they’d eaten lunch together (which consisted mostly of tossing food at each other and seeing what the other could catch in their mouth. Richie had been ridiculously skilled at it and Eddie refused to play any longer after he caught a grape on the first try from the other side of the room). 

After deciding he’d done enough cleaning for the evening, he peeked his head into Richie’s booth to see what he was up to. Obviously, he was in the middle of his show, but considering it was approaching 2am, it clearly wasn’t of the highest importance.  _ Just pressing buttons and playing music _ , Richie had described it as,  _ it was no Thursday 2pm show. _

“Hey, how’s it going?”

Richie spun around in his chair, immediately sliding one side of his headphones off as his face lit up at the mere sight of Eddie. “Hey! Hold on a sec!” he whisper-yelled, holding up a finger to him. “Alright, you’re listening to 99.8 KSPR, where we play the hits. Got a request? Call it in and if it’s a decent song, we’ll play it! Seriously guys, stop requesting such shitty songs, okay? Now enjoy 90 minutes of commercial free listening, courtesy of one Jane Doe who legitimately paid for this advertising space to say a big eff you to Acme, where you pay twice as much as expected for half the quality. Watch out Acme, sounds like this Jane Doe’s going for the jugular.” 

Richie pointedly pressed a few buttons and soft feedback of the song began to echo through the booth; he then dropped his headphones to rest around his neck. “That gives us about an hour and a half, what’s up?”

Eddie laughed as he walked across the booth to sit down in the extra chair at the soundboard. “Did someone really pay for an ad spot just to say all that?” 

Richie nodded slowly, spinning to where he’s facing Eddie. “I know it’s crazy, right? But like, where’s the lie?”

“No seriously, that place sucks,” Eddie shot back automatically, nodding in agreement and emitting an amused chuckle. A moment passed before he spoke again, “So this is what you do during your overnight shows?”

“What? Not the theatrics show you were looking for?” Richie questioned with an amused smile twitching at his lips. “This is pretty much it. Play some stretches of music, throw in a transition here and there. Sure, it's not glamorous but it pays the bills...for the most part."

“What do you do during those long stretches of songs?” Eddie asked curiously, eyeing the countless buttons in front of them. His gaze skimmed over to the desk beside the soundboard, noting the numerous sheets of notebook paper strewn about and covered in practically illegible chicken scratch. "What're these?" He asked playfully, launching himself out of his chair to grab some of the pages before Richie could stop him, not that he even tried. 

Richie laughed as he watched Eddie read over the pages. "Those are just some characters I’ve created, inspired by some actual calls I’ve received.” 

"Do one for me?" Eddie requested eagerly, shoving the papers back in Richie's direction. He persisted when he noticed Richie's inquisitive look. "Oh c'mon! I know these all have voices; you literally wrote notes on what they sound like!"

"Alright, alright, but only if you're the interviewer," Richie laughed, handing the notes back to Eddie and grabbing a pair of headphones from the other side of the desk. He scooted his chair closer to Eddie's, leaning in close to slide the headphones over his ears. Both of them ignored the way the other's cheeks flushed pink from the proximity. He grabbed one of the microphone arms and leveled it to Eddie's level before doing the same for his own. 

Eddie felt a little nervous; by no means did he know how to conduct a radio interview, but he'd sat in on enough of Richie's to be able to wing it, especially considering it wasn't real. And the way Richie's face lit with excitement as he began made all his nerves dissolve. "You're listening to 99.8 KSPR, this is your host Eddie Kaspbrak. I'm sitting down today with-" he peeked down at the sheet in his hand, "-Craig Schwartz. Craig, can you tell me a little bit about yourself?"

“Uh, yeah, well, my name is Craig Schwartz, also known as TheCraigMonster42069,” Richie answered, dawning a brand new voice Eddie had never heard before. To say it sounded skeezy was a massive understatement; it sent chills down Eddie’s spine from how unnerved it made him feel. He knew it was just a character, but still, Eddie had run into many Craigs in his short lifetime. “I live in my mom’s basement. I don’t have a job so I spend most of my day in the comments of various youtube videos--”

“Stop! Oh my god!” Eddie exclaimed, waving his hand in front of Richie’s face. He shook his head as he trailed off into a laugh. “I can’t with Craig, he’s too creepy. Who else you got?”

“Lets see…” Richie grabbed the other sheets and rifled through them, “How about Karen Whitaker, soccer mom who thinks our show is going to corrupt the minds of--” Eddie’s nose scrunched in distaste as he shook his head, “Marcus Johnson--” He shook his head again, “Hey, I didn’t even explain that one!” Richie laughed, heart warmed by the look of affection on Eddie’s face as he continued to playfully shake his head. “Well who do you want to interview then?”

All silliness immediately vanished into thin air, leaving Eddie with the most sincere look on his face as he answered, “You.”

Richie scoffed in response, “You want to interview  _ me _ ?”

Eddie shifted in his seat, sitting up straighter and reaching up to pointedly adjust his microphone. “So tell me a little bit about yourself Richie.”

“What do you want to know?” Richie asked, laughing to ease the tension of sudden, unexpected attention. To a degree, he was used to attention, receiving plenty of it whenever he was active on the air. But it felt different to receive it in person like he was right now; the way Eddie’s soft eyes bore into him rendered him completely flustered. He liked Eddie.  _ A lot.  _ Of all the interns to wash through the place, Eddie was his favorite. Hell, Eddie was one of his favorite people in general. 

“Who is Richie "The Trashmouth" Tozier?” 

“I’m Richard James Tozier the third-”

“No, you are not!”

Richie laughed at the lighthearted look of denial on Eddie’s face. “I’m Richie Tozier. I’m a radio host here at KSPR, have been for about 3 years. You know, I started out right where you are now.”

Eddie’s face lit up with a feigned shock, “Conducting fake interviews?”

Richie rolled his eyes affectionately, “Hardy har har,” he deadpanned, “I mean, I started as an intern, shortly after I got out of high school. The only difference between you and me is that I actually wanted to be here.” Before Eddie could interject with his justifications, Richie continued, “For most of my life, I wanted to get into radio. Whenever I was in the car with my dad, he would listen to this one radio host, who I remember just... _ always  _ being super funny. We would be in tears the entire car ride. That’s the greatest memory I have with my dad. I wanted to create that for other people.”

Eddie smiled fondly as he listened; he had no idea that anyone could have such a sweet, sincere reason for getting into something like comedy radio. He took the internship because it was the only one available, but Richie actually sought it out and now he did it for a living. “That’s really nice,” he murmured softly, “I bet your dad listens to  _ you  _ on the radio now.”

Richie let out a quiet, bitter bite of laughter, “I wish. He uh, he passed away when I was in high school.”

A soft “oh” fell from Eddie’s lips as he mentally cursed himself for mentioning it. How dense was he that he didn’t pick that up the implication from Richie’s story? He really should’ve known better, especially considering his own history. He leaned forward to rest a hand on Richie’s thigh, “I’m sorry. At least you got to have some nice memories with him.”

Richie’s eyes fixed on Eddie’s hand, still rested on his leg; he swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. “Yeah, he was a good dad. I miss him a lot, but uh, radio is a nice way to still feel connected to him.”

Eddie chuckled, nervously retracting his hand from Richie’s leg. “Kinda feel like a jerk for hating this place so intensely.”

The atmosphere shifted back to the lightheartedness from before as Richie snorted, “It’s okay. It’s not for everyone. What do you want to do with your life?”

“I want to go to school for business,” Eddie answered, short nails picking at a loose thread on the ripped denim covering his thighs. “I applied to a few different schools and I didn’t get accepted into any of them. I never really planned for my life beyond high school, never thought I’d make it that far,” he shrugged and continued to stare down at his lap. “But in a perfect world, I’d like to have my own business. A car service exclusively for cross country trips.”

“Like a long distance Uber.”

“More or less,” Eddie replied with a nod, his lips quirking up in an amused grin. He covered his mouth as he attempted (but failed) to stifle a yawn. “How do you survive these overnights?”

“You see that mini fridge over there--” he pointed to the opposite side of the room where it stood, beside a couch that had definitely seen better days. “It is packed with a least seven different kinds of disgusting energy drinks.” He paused as he looked over at Eddie, who’s cheek was now pressed against the headrest and who’s breathing sounded slightly heavier. “Do you want one of them? Looks like you might need one. Or maybe you wanna lay down?”

Eddie immediately shook his head, tiredly mumbling, “No, no, I’m awake.” Though his eyes slowly slipping shut told a different story. 

“Yeah, uh huh, okay,” Richie chuckled, obviously not convinced, but pressing it no further. Instead, he chatted with Eddie until his answers were incomprehensible and then until the only response he received were soft snores. He pulled off his hoodie and leaned over to cover Eddie with it, deciding he’d let him sleep for now, at least until he had to go live again and couldn’t afford unprompted snore sound effects. But he  _ could  _ record it and save it for later.   
  


Later came the following week, when he somehow got roped into doing the overnight again. To be honest, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world and he didn’t exactly fight it when his shithead boss demanded he do it again. He didn’t mind; he knew it would lead him right back to the studio, where he could spend more time with a certain blue eyed radio host. 

The idea made his heart soar, thumping wildly in his chest and pumping a mix of excitement and adoration through his veins. When the night finally came, he sped through the actual work he had to do and then made his way through the station to find Richie’s studio, a path he’d become familiar with over the past couple months. 

“Hey, how’s it go-” 

Eddie cut himself off, leaning in the doorway to peek into the studio. Richie sat in his chair at the soundboard, turned to the side. Eddie could see large headphones settled over unruly, dark curls and the sight made him smile. Even more so, when he noticed Richie’s fingers drumming against his thighs, presumably in rhythm to whatever he listened to. His lips moved along with the lyrics, the faintest singing audible from across the room. For a moment, Eddie remained still, content to lean in the doorway and carefully listen to him. Richie looked so--Eddie didn’t even know how to describe it--he looked so in his element, like he was meant to do this. He was a natural. Eddie could only hope to find that same passion someday. 

“Alright, for those of you who've been living under a rock, that was Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit," Richie rattled off smoothly. "It's just past 3am and you're listening to 99.8 KSPR, where we play the hits. Even in the dead ass middle of the night. Stick around, we got more hits comin’ after these short commercials."

Richie spun in his chair, headphones dipping to rest around his neck. Eddie would be lying if he said he didn't notice the subtle way Richie perked up at his presence. "Be still my heart, Eddie Kaspbrak stands before me!" He exclaimed, voice taking on the inflection of a southern belle, but not well. 

"Guilty," Eddie chuckled, kicking off of the doorway and moving towards the soundboard. "Can we add that accent to the list of voices we're never gonna do again? Because that was horrendous."

Richie slapped a dainty hand to his chest in mock offense, "How dare you insult a lady!"

"Oh, is that what you are?"

"What, you don't think I'm pretty enough?" His striking blue eyes widened, in a way that somehow seemed to make them even bluer and Eddie found his breath catching in his throat as he struggled to come up with a witty response and then struggled even more actually saying the words. "Awww," Richie cooed in continuance, "I'm so pretty it's got you all choked up."

Eddie felt a little silly, but all he could do was nod in agreement. 

"Well shoot, Eds, you ain't too bad yourself," Richie drawled with a wink. Silence settled around them for a moment after that, Richie having popped his headphones back over one ear to listen for his cues. 

"I'll actually get to see the magic happen today," Eddie commented, scooting his chair closer to Richie's and gesturing to the many different buttons in front of them. It looked beyond complicated, something he would have to spend hours learning, only to forget it all the next day. 

Richie scoffed, "I'm not sure magic is the right word," he chuckled, adding air quotes around the word magic. "But if it really tickles your pickle, I'll let you press my buttons."

“ _ Ha. Ha. _ ” Eddie laughed dryly, making a point to roll his eyes in Richie’s direction. He ignored the delighted laugh he got in response, turning his head to the side so Richie wouldn’t catch the smile creeping onto his face. His attention eventually flickered back towards him as he introed the next song, watching his long fingers hovering over a series of buttons. Eddie inched his hand towards Richie’s, meeting his gaze and mouthing, “Can I…?”

Richie seemed to take the hint, settling his hand over Eddie’s to guide his fingers to the correct buttons. When the time came, he slowly pressed down on each of them, letting them connect slowly with the buttons beneath them. He waited until the song began to play before looking over at Eddie and remarking, “You could literally take my fucking job tomorrow.”

Eddie playfully shoved at Richie’s arm, letting his head fall back in unrestrained laughter. “Oh shut up!” he exclaimed. His eyes went wide as he stared over at Richie, possessing an excitement he hadn’t felt in a while. “Can I pick the next song?”

Richie eyed Eddie with a fond look on his face; it was etched in the corners of his lips turned up, in the light behind his eyes, even in the rosy color of his cheeks. Over the past couple months, he had grown to know and like Eddie. He was different than the other interns who had blown through the place, unlike anyone Richie had ever met before. He had a healthy amount of spunk and refused to take anyone’s shit; his smile could light up any room and his laugh sounded like an actual melody, one Richie wanted to play on repeat. To say Richie was smitten would be more than accurate. 

“Only if it’s a good one,” Richie said, like it was his only condition; but honestly, he would play anything for Eddie. 

He got Eddie set up with a pair of headphones and let him rifle through all the songs; he spent the next hour painstakingly searching each one until finally he made a decision. "This is the one," he declared proudly. 

Richie peeked over, squinting his eyes in disbelief. "Really? This one? This is the one?" He questioned incredulously. "Are you sure you don't want to pick something a little-" he hesitated as he searched for the correct word before simply arriving at, "Better?"

Eddie playfully rolled his eyes. "Could you be any more of a snob?" 

"Is that a challenge?"

"No!" Eddie was quick to answer, refusing to buy into Richie's self-indulgent games. "What's wrong with my song huh? It's a good song! It's catchy, you can dance to it."

"I doubt many of the listeners are dancing their socks off at the ripe ol' time of-" he paused dramatically to check his watch, "- _ 3:27am _ ."

"Well not with your song choice they're not!" Eddie insisted, scooting his chair closer to Richie's and gesturing to vaguely to his equipment. "C'mon, queue it up! You'll see!"

Richie let out the softest of chuckles, under his breath as he obliged, loading Eddie's choice next into the queue. "As always, you're listening to KSPR 99.8, I'm your hostess with the mostess, Richie 'The Trashmouth' Tozier. For all you night owls out there, we're going to mix it up a little and play something to getcha on your feet. You'll thank me later. Or not. Either way, here's Metro Station and their song Shake It."

Eddie clapped his hands together in delight as the sound of his song echoed through the booth. The look on Richie's face was absolutely priceless and once he had finished basking in it, he stood from his chair and held his hand out to Richie. "Dance with me?"

Richie ignored him for a moment in favor of pressing a few more buttons, presumably loading up another few songs. "So not only do you want me to soil the brand of my station by playing this, I have to dance to it too?" He demanded lightly, though standing nonetheless.

He took Eddie's hand, raising it over his head for him to spin underneath it. His heart soared, captivated by the look of joy on Eddie's face. He pulled Eddie's hand; he caught on a second later and spun in towards Richie, until his back was against his chest and his gaze met Richie's. His cheeks flushed pink and, in a moment of panic, he quickly spun back out. If Richie noticed, he didn't say a word, instead more than happy to keep dancing along with the annoyingly catchy pop song. 

"You know, you're really not a terrible dancer," Eddie commented casually as Richie spun him under his arm again. 

"I never said I was," Richie replied, voice trailing off in questioning inflection that ended in a laugh. He brought Eddie in close, one hand resting on his lower back while his other took Eddie's hand; they waltzed around the studio, tripping and stumbling from the fast pace, but laughing all the while. 

"Okay Eds, big finish!"

"Don't you dare dip-" 

But before Eddie could get the rest of his demand out, Richie did exactly that, keeping a sturdy grip on Eddie and dipping him back suddenly. The move elicited a sudden yelp of surprise from Eddie as he desperately clutched himself tighter to Richie, for fear of falling. When Richie pulled back him up, his eagerness forced his body a lot closer to Richie's than they initially were. He stared up, licking his lips subconsciously as his eyes locked with Richie's captivatingly blue eyes. 

The moment only seemed to solidify as the song ended and faded to a slower melody, a cheesy tempo of a song you would only hear at a middle school dance. For a passing second, the atmosphere was too perfect and Eddie found himself almost leaning in, his stare fixed on Richie's lips. It felt so cliche for Eddie to be thinking about kissing Richie, like something out of a bad 80's rom-com but regardless, he lifted onto his toes and was about to go in for the kiss when something unexpected happened. 

Richie laughed.

Every last piece of the atmosphere shattered. Eddie fell back to his feet, jaw dropped in shock at Richie's reaction as he scrambled to catch his breath, laughing so hard he couldn't get the words out. Justifiably, Eddie went to pull back from Richie, but his hold remained firm. 

"Wait, no, I'm sorry," he choked out as his laughter died down, reaching up to wipe his eyes. "I wanna kiss you so bad, I just kept picturing that scene in that one movie and it was so cheesy I couldn't keep a straight face."

Eddie felt himself relax considerably, even letting out a soft laugh himself as he shook his head. "I can't believe you laughed, you ass! You ruined the moment!"

Richie kept one arm circled around Eddie's waist while his other one moved up to brush a blonde strand of hair from his face. "I like you Eddie. A lot. I've had so much fun hanging out with you." 

"Will you just kiss me then?" Eddie asked impatiently and a second later, rose to his tiptoes to meet Richie as he leaned down. Their lips pressed together, creating a spark that'd been months in the making. 

Eddie's arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, holding himself against Richie as he deepened the kiss, getting caught up in the movement of Richie's lips moving against his own. He could stay in that moment forever, never before had he felt such electricity in one kiss. Richie pulled back a moment later, resting his forehead against Eddie's and keeping the perfect moment undisturbed with silence, only the sound of the song fading to an end. 

"Oh shit," Richie exclaimed, suddenly diving for his chair and pressing the button for his microphone. "Stay tuned for more," he said simply, standing again and moving to capture Eddie's lips in another kiss as a commercial began to play in the background. 

This time, Eddie broke away with an uproar of laughter. "Wait, it's an Acme commercial! Did they do this because of that other person who dissed them a few weeks ago?"

Richie went dead silent in playfully feigned realization, "Oh god, Eds, I've started a war."

The two of them moved back over to the soundboard, sitting down in their respective chairs. "I give it two weeks before that Jane Doe retaliates."

"We'll have to wait and find out," Richie declared, glancing over at Eddie with a fond smile and a rosy tint to his cheeks.

"Yeah, I guess we will," Eddie agreed, nodding as his fingers crept over to where Richie's rested on the desk, lacing them together with a smile. While he only came for an extra few lines on his resume, he ended up finding something even greater. 


End file.
